


Seeing Red

by Good_beans



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: but they're not like main characters i guess, clive and alm are also in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Good_beans/pseuds/Good_beans
Summary: Amidst the joy and celebration of the Unification Ball, Mathilda must help Lukas face a painful family reunion.
Kudos: 27





	Seeing Red

**Author's Note:**

> I always pictured the One Kingdom throwing a big ball to celebrate the joining of the two countries after the events of Echoes, and this is my take on it from these characters' points of view. I absolutely love Mathilda's character, I couldn't believe I hadn't written about her until now. And (despite being the oldest of five sisters) she was not exempt from my found-family obsessed mind...
> 
> This comes from Lukas's little dialogue about his older brother that sent him off to war, and I just went crazy with the idea.
> 
> Also, there's no info on Lukas's last name/family names/hometown so all of those are just my own ideas!

Mathilda had never felt so troubled walking into a ball before. And she had been to quite a few balls against her will. 

She had been awaiting this celebration for months; it was a shame that she was so wracked with worry tonight. She was upset that a single guest, who she had never met, was already ruining the whole affair for many of the Deliverance members. She was on her way to meet up with Clive, but for now she looked over at the man walking alongside her. Lukas’s shoulders were tense, and his eyes gazed absently.

Clive had been wearing a similarly uneasy expression throughout the day. He blamed himself for Lukas’s predicament. He lamented that out of all the staff in charge of the guest list for the Unification Ball, he should have been the one to recognize a certain name. He should have called on Alm and Celica the moment he saw the entry: _Albert Brooker._ Lukas gave up his surname upon joining the Deliverance, but Clive had still heard it when the man first enlisted. He had paced before Mathilda for hours saying that he should have remembered it. Instead, it had slipped past him. The invitations were sent. 

The castle had received a letter that Albert Brooker’s eldest son would be attending in his stead. Lukas had discovered it upon going through the King’s correspondence, only two days prior to the event. Even for someone as in control of their emotions as him, two days was nowhere near enough time to mentally prepare for such a reunion. Mathilda had hardly even seen Lukas for that period, and from what she could gather from Python, he hadn’t taken the news well.

With her status and abilities, Mathilda was very used to being in complete control -- it was killing her that there was very little she could do for her friend. She wished she could somehow prevent Lukas from facing this painful meeting, but she knew better than anyone that family matters were just that: family matters.

Clive was there to meet her, looking stunning as always. Her thoughts were momentarily pulled away as her heart swelled. Everything she and her fiance had worked so hard for was finally paying off. Tonight they’d be celebrating the success that they had sacrificed so much to achieve. They greeted each other with a kiss.

“Good evening, my dearest Clive!”

“Hello, my love!”

“Oh, I cannot wait to dance with you. To dance a proper waltz, that is. I have dreamed about it throughout all the war.”

“As have I. My love, you look absolutely angelic!” he replied. “Ah, Lukas! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so dressed up before” He laughed as the two men exchanged an odd hug. Although Mathilda had reassured him otherwise, Clive was convinced Lukas held animosity towards him for the whole situation. 

“I suppose I could say the same of you!” Lukas said pleasantly. “Ha, you should have heard Python when we tried to get him into a suit. You would have thought he was bleeding out the way he protested…”

The group laughed. Mathilda thought of how lovely it would be to see everyone at such a formal event. Most of those who she had grown closest to in the Deliverance had never been to such a party before. She was so glad they’d get to enjoy a well deserved night of extravagance and joy.

“Well,” Clive lifted his arm to his partner. “Shall we?”

Mathilda took it, but Lukas stayed back.

“I’m going to be escorting Lady Delthea inside, so I shall meet with you later in the evening. Do enjoy your time!” She could see there was much struggle behind Lukas’s small smile. 

She gave a farewell nod as the two entered the ballroom.

Everything looked incredible. In such a small window of time, the staff had transformed the cold, spacious hall into somewhere welcoming and beautiful. The room was draped with lavender banners and hundreds of round lanterns. There were several tables laid out around the outskirts of the room, topped with embroidered purple tablecloths and shining centerpieces. An overwhelming amount of flowers graced the tables and walls. The plants contrasted the many crystal and gemstone decorations that glittered in the lantern light. A group of musicians played a lively tune as the pair walked in. Clive and Mathilda made their entrance arm in arm, beaming and waving to the guests near the doorway. 

The ball was already in full swing. Around the room, people were spinning and swaying to the orchestra. Some gathered together along the edges of the hall to talk, watch the dancing, or try the sweets -- all of which were beautifully displayed on different tables.

The pair drifted around the crowd, greeting familiar faces and introducing themselves to new guests. As well as nobles, dukes, dutchesses, and powerful families from either country, the new rulers had also made sure to invite families and friends of lower class. 

Mathilda found it ironic: she used to despise socializing at these events. She hated striking up false pleasantries with stuck up guests who treated her as nothing more than a pretty face. But tonight, she found herself reveling in each new conversation. She was fairly good with names, and did her best to remember as many as possible, along with their relationship to the Deliverance. She was thrilled to meet family members from Ram Village. She gladly spoke with friends of Delthea and Luthier. She had a wonderful time introducing herself to people who were close with Forsyth and Python. 

They spent a long while meeting and greeting, then Clive and Mathilda treated themselves to some fine food and drink. They chatted about nothings -- after such a war she found herself so glad to be chatting about nothings -- while they overlooked the ballroom.

Tobin was being pulled around the ballroom by his many siblings. Silque was dancing in the center of the room with a huge smile on her face. Others were off causing trouble; Mathilda spotted Python stealing food off of noble’s dishes when they looked away. Delthea was talking to some of the other children, showing off some of her less formal dance moves much to her brother’s dismay. 

When they had finished their glasses of wine, Clive excused himself to see how Clair was doing. Mathilda took the moment to herself to wander the beautiful room in contentment.

She caught a glimpse of Alm in the front of the ballroom. He was dressed nicely, but it seems he had turned down the extravagant royal garments. Celica was by his side. The two were also greeting people, but Mathilda knew these interactions were much more weighted than the lighthearted conversations she had been having. He appeared strangely composed and mature, shaking hands and chatting with so many powerful people who surely had their doubts about the new young king. 

She noticed Lukas standing by him. The man would lean over the boy’s shoulder in between guests, most likely giving information and pointers. With him as advisor, it was no wonder Alm felt so calm. 

The musicians struck up a familiar chord, and Mathilda recognized a traditional Zofian waltz. They had been playing a mix of Rigelian and Zofian songs all night, and Mathilda was happy to hear something that brought her back to her own childhood. The woman quickly scanned the crown for her partner, and let out a laugh seeing him doing the same. They ran to each other’s arms, glad to finally share a proper dance after all this time.

\-----

Soon after the waltz, Clive and Mathilda made their way over to Lukas. He stood alone, as Alm had left to dance with Celica. The pair looked happier than Mathilda had ever seen. 

Apparently they had been no different. “You two were breathtaking out there,” Lukas remarked as they reached him, “it was delightful to see you enjoying yourselves like that.”

“Why thank you!” Mathilda looked to her partner. “I haven’t had such a lovely time in so long.” She gently placed her hand on Lukas’s arm. “How has the ball been treating you?”

The man smiled. He opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes caught on something over her shoulder. His expression fell. Following his gaze, Mathilda spotted a young man who looked an awful lot like Lukas himself. He had similar curling red hair, and similar nose. He began crossing the room with the same poised walk. He was staring back with the same narrowed eyes. 

Mathilda’s face hardened. She muttered, “I suppose we must get this over with sooner or later. Clive --”

“Yes, I know,” they exchanged a look before he hurried away. Clive disappeared into the crowd, heading in a different direction from the redheaded guest. She was thankful they had spoken earlier about this.

Lukas grabbed the woman by the shoulders. 

“Lady Mathilda,” he looked her dead in the eyes, “please leave this to me. It is my brother, and therefore this is my difficulty to face. Do not get involved. Is that clear?”

The woman was taken aback. Under other circumstances she would have been offended that someone would speak so harshly to her like that. But she knew the kind of stress Lukas was under -- she could see the panic and the pain behind his eyes and knew he meant no harm. In fact, Lukas hardly ever spoke in those tones at all. Members of the court often wondered what it sounded like when he raised his voice. Mathilda worried their wondering would be put to rest tonight.

Either way, she was reluctant to agree. Mathilda had some strong feelings about the man who had constantly belittled Lukas since he was young. This was the man who had forced his peaceful younger brother out of his own home to join a war. How could she just stand idly by as Lukas faced him? 

Still, she gave a reluctant nod and agreed to stay quiet while they spoke. She took half a step away. There, she could blend in with the crowd but remain watchful over the encounter.

The guest finally arrived. The two stood face to face. 

Lukas was hardly shorter, but the other man took the opportunity to exaggerate the way he looked down his nose at his little brother. 

“Lukas.” There seemed to be heavy silence, even amid the clamor of the ball.

“Nigel.”

“You look well.”

“I am.”

The two stared for a moment more. Lukas’s expression remained calm and unwavering under the man’s disapproving eyes.

“Your letters have been so scarce,” Lukas finally said. To a stranger, his tones may have sounded pleasant, but Mathilda knew better. “I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“ _My_ letters? Yours have been just as rare, dear brother. And when you do write, you’re always so terse. You have told us nearly nothing after arriving at the castle. We only heard the details of your adventures through hearsay. I am almost inclined to believe you didn’t participate in them at all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lukas attempted an apologetic smile, but the burning in his eyes gave him away. “I could hardly spare the time to write lengthy letters with my new responsibilities.”

“Ah yes, your new role as the king’s _advisor_ , hm?” Somehow, Nigel’s intonation made the third most impressive position in the kingdom sound like something to be ashamed of. 

“Indeed. I’m glad my knowledge and skills could be recognized by His Highness. There is much to do, managing a kingdom, after all.”

Although Nigel acted as if he were speaking in good fun, Mathilda could tell his words were meant to sting. “Oh, yes, this party planning must have been such an ordeal for you...”

“As a matter of fact, I was not involved in any preparations for the ball. You see, I was busy working out politics and peace treaties with nobles across the continent.”

“They put _you_ in charge of diplomacy?” A biting laugh. “You -- who has the sociability of a house cat? Who would make such an absurd decision?”

“His Highness himself.” Lukas matched his lighthearted tone. “If you so pleased, you could always bring your concerns straight to him.”

"Ah, I won’t trouble myself. I'm sure he'll figure out his mistake soon enough."

The two glared at each other through their tight grins. 

Unable to watch any longer, Mathilda stepped to Lukas’s side. “Ah, good evening, you two!” It took all of her effort to muster up a polite face as she looked at Nigel. “I am Lady Mathilda, Lieutenant General of the Brotherhood of Knights.” Her voice flattened. “And you must be Nigel.”

His eye twitched, but otherwise stayed composed. Mathilda savored the reaction.

“I am indeed Master Brooker of Rosebourne.”

“A pleasure,” she said with very little pleasure in her voice. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Mathilda saw that Clive had succeeded in finding Forsyth and Python. The three were making their way across the ballroom. Were it any other situation, Mathilda would be panicked to see such a mischievous smirk on Pythons’s face.

“You know,” Nigel said, shining with arrogance once more, “I do believe we have met before!”

“Oh?” Mathilda felt her stomach clench. She knew they had; she had been forced to meet and greet so many nobles throughout her lifetime, and she certainly did have faint memories of the Brooker Estate. Still, every recollection of those types of parties were sour ones.

“Why, yes! I believe you came to one of our grand dinners several years ago!” He flashed a charming grin. “I’m certain I could never forget such a beautiful young lady!” 

Mathilda was sure her smile was more of a grimace at this point. “Oh, well, I’m not certain I remember the event, my sincerest apologies.”

“No matter, no matter! Would you care to dance?” He asked, offering his arm. He leaned in, as if telling her a little secret, “I can assure you, there is no one else at this ball worthy of dancing with the likes of you…”

“Oh dear, here comes my fiance now!” She said, glad for the reason not to strangle the other man. Clive stepped beside her, placing his hand on the small of her back. They stood beside the brothers, able to see both Lukas’s miserable expression and Nigel’s regretful one.

Clive and Mathilda had high positions in the new kingdom, and couldn’t afford to cause a scene without Alm facing serious repercussions on their behalf. Thankfully, Python and Forsyth were bound by no such limits. 

The two immediately stepped in front of a surprised Lukas. Each took up a menacing stance. 

Python moved nothing but his eyes, flicking them over the man with contempt. He glanced at Forsyth. “He looks even scrawnier than I anticipated.”

The knight nodded gravely. “Shorter, as well.”

“Excuse me?!” Nigel quickly buried his surprise at the sudden entrance and insults. His face easily twisted into a sneer. “Oh, now I recall. You must be the friends my brother spoke of in his letters. The _peasants_ , mmm?” 

“Aw, so he’s said we’re friends, has he?” Python said, completely unaffected. “Funny, I can’t think of a single pleasant thing he’s said about you.”

The two deepened their frowns. They stepped a bit closer.

There was a flicker of fear across Nigel’s face. He took a half a step back, clearly ready to excuse himself from the conversation.

“What seems to be the trouble?” Forsyth asked. “You are not… frightened are you?” He raised his eyebrows at Python.

“That wouldn’t make sense,” the archer feigned surprise with him.

“I mean, to be related to _The_ Lukas Brooker, Hero of Valentia, you would think he’d have as much courage as his brother…”

“Or at least half as much…”

“Or at least a shred of courage at all...”

Nigal huffed. “You two are speaking nonsense! I have no reason to stay and listen to such rubbish!” He stepped back again, his voice becoming more frantic. “I will not stand around and let filth like you speak to me like this! I demand you treat me with respect, you stupid peasants!”

Lukas shoved between the pair, finally speaking. His voice was even, but came with a terrifying coldness. 

_“If you ever disrespect them like that again, I will kill you.”_

Although Mathilda had been thinking the same thing, the fire in Lukas’s eyes frightened her. It would not bode well for the King’s royal advisor to be involved in a murder at the ball for peace, after all...

Nigel’s eyebrows shot up and he burst into laughter. “Oh _my!_ Have I upset you? My deepest apologies that you haven’t figured it out yet, but these are not your friends.” The man’s eyes were wild with malice now. “They said it themselves, you’re The Hero of Valentia! That’s the only reason they stick around you -- because you have a hero’s status. Not for your thrilling company, dear brother. Not for all that sentimental care you show for them.” He let out an awful laugh. “And it’s _certainly_ not for your sparkling personality! No, these are no friends of yours!”

Lukas’s fists trembled. His face had gone deathly pale, as if this were something he had turned over in his own mind many times. His eyes flicked briefly to the others, trying to catch any truth in Nigel’s statement. 

Clive had grit his teeth. Mathilda almost forgot her position and stepped forward to throw a punch right then and there. But Python and Forsyth knew what to do.

A huge grin spread across Python’s face as he jabbed a finger into Nigel’s chest, making the man flinch. “Well I certainly have never come across a personality as rotten as this one.”  
Forsyth joined him. “And I cannot say I’ve enjoyed your company much at all. I believe I’d rather be back fighting the gods themselves than speaking with you for a minute more.”

“Agreed!”

Each grabbed one of Nigel’s arms and began dragging him towards the door. Clive watched with a set jaw, satisfied. Mathilda placed her hand on Lukas’s shoulder. His face was tense and conflicted, probably wondering if he should intervene or not.

Unfortunately, no one could do anything more as Alm walked by at that very moment. Nigel called out, waving one of his arms to get the young man’s attention. “Your Highness!” 

The pair stopped pushing him around, now that the King’s gaze was upon them. Their eyes were narrowed in patient anger. Nigel's eyes, on the other hand, gleamed with cunning. Lukas’s face was distraught. Mathilda wondered if he could recognize Nigel’s expression from times in which the man had used his quick wit to win their father’s support and praise. 

“Your Highness, I should have you know that I am being wrongfully removed from your celebration!”

“Oh?” the young king turned, his face already twinged with panic as other guests began glancing over at the commotion.

“There is no trouble at all,” Mathilda cut in, “I can assure you these knights are simply removing a troublesome guest.”

“My, that’s rich!” Nigel spat, yanking himself out of Python and Forsyth’s grip. “That is a vicious lie, Your Highness! These _oh-so-esteemed_ members of the Brotherhood are trying to drive me out on false claims! They have set up an entire act because of their own personal vendettas against me. As your honored guest I refuse to be treated in such a way.”

Alm approached them, adopting a calm atmosphere. Some of the guests turned back to their activities, but a few continued to see what was going on.

“So,” the king said, “you believe their judgement of you is clouded by their emotions?”

“I do indeed! Please, order them to release me at once.”

“Well, then, I suppose my decision should also be free of emotional bias, should it not?”

“That is correct, Your Highness.” Nigel smiled. He was the picture of innocence. “I am so glad you are seeing my point.”

“Good!” Alm beamed. “Because whenever I need to make such a decision, there is only one person capable of making such logical, objective observations -- my advisor!” 

Nigel paled. 

“I’ll simply ask him what action I should take.” Alm turned. “Sir Lukas. What do you believe should be done about this guest?”

Mathilda and the others were simply spilling with smugness, but Lukas remained unexpressive. 

He spoke carefully. “I believe it would be unwise to keep such a disruptive guest at a ball meant for bringing peace. This celebration is for a cause much bigger than any of us individuals. It simply would not do for it to be ruined by something as minor as a family squabble.”

Alm nodded, somehow maintaining a straight face. “Very insightful. Thank you for your wisdom, as always.” Lukas nodded, and Mathilda caught a hint of satisfaction across his lips as Alm continued. “Lady Mathilda, may you escort this man to the front gate?”

“Yes, Sir.” At long last, she had the permission she needed. She had removed enough of her little sister’s problematic suitors away from them when necessary, and she took great pleasure in repeating the practice. 

Nigel, on the other hand, looked about ready to explode. Between being the oldest and being of such high class, Mathilda realized this man was very used to getting exactly what he wanted all the time. It was with much satisfaction that she denied him of that now. She grabbed his arm and began pulling him away. She was a good deal taller than him and a great deal stronger. He struggled against her only for a moment before submitting to his fate. They had only gotten about halfway through the room, however, before there was a call from behind. 

“Wait --” Forsyth had shoved through the crowd to meet them, Lukas and Python following curiously behind.

They paused. Forsyth drew himself up, staring directly at Nigel. “You were right.”

“I... what?”

“We are not Lukas’s friends -- and I would be ashamed to be called such. We are his family.”

Lukas gave his first genuine smile of the evening. Python was rolling his eyes at Forsyth’s theatrics, but he wrapped his arm around Lukas’s shoulder in agreement. 

Mathilda, too, couldn’t agree more. She felt a warmth in her chest at seeing the three so happy together in that moment. She gave them an earnest nod, glad to see Lukas return it.

Then she continued pulling the fuming man along behind her. They remained in silence all the way to the front gate. 

“I do recommend you stay far from here. I shudder to think what your father would say if you sullied his good name by insulting those closest to the king.” She once again thought back to her little sisters, and knew the most petty insults involved shame from parents. 

Nigel glared at her. He was red in the face, and looked as if he had a lot to say behind those pressed lips. 

Mathilda spun around. “Now, be on your way! I’ll return with my entire regiment if I catch word that you have caused any more of a disturbance.” She reentered the castle with a swishing of her gown.

\-----

When she returned to the ballroom, she found the trio huddled by the dessert table, piling sweets onto Lukas’s plate despite his protests. They seemed so happy laughing and talking, she almost didn’t intrude. But Lukas spotted her and waved her over.

Python spun to her, his mouth full of some strawberry treat. Through his chewing, he said something along the lines of, “so how did it go?”

“All is taken care of. No need to worry yourselves over anything.”

Lukas nodded, his eyes lowered. “I am truly sorry for my brother’s behavior.” he said softly. “I have already apologized to these two, but his words towards you were also out of line, milady.”

“Oh hush now!” Mathilda waved his concerns away. “You needn’t apologize on anyone’s behalf. _I_ am sorry you had to grow up with that little brat.”

A guilty smile crossed Lukas’s face. 

“And I do hope that you do not take a single word of his to heart.”

“Yes!” Forsyth cut in, “we already told him he has nothing to worry about! All of us in the Deliverance shall remain by his side for as long as we shall live!”

“Yup!” Python slung his arm around Lukas’ shoulders, nearly toppling the plate of sweets. “You hear that? You’re stuck with us forever, Luke ol’ boy.”

Mathilda came to his side, picking a cookie off the dish. “Well, that is if I don’t have your head first, Python.”

“ _What??_ What’d I do?”

“Python!” Forsyth gasped. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I asked, you buffoon.”

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know…”

Lukas chuckled to himself as the two bickered. Clive had his arm around Mathilda once more. She looked at the group in front of her, as well as those scattered across the ballroom. 

Clive angled his head. “What is it, Dearest?”

She let out a small laugh. “Oh, nothing really. I was just remembering those days of thinking my family was too big for one household.”

“And?”

Mathilda kissed his cheek. She returned her gaze to the ballroom. 

“And now look at it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I should count how many of my fics end with a fade-out on Python and Forsyth bickering...
> 
> I love writing/reading stories of "bad" characters being redeemed, or apologizing to the protagonists they hurt, so it was Incredibly Fun to write something about a completely rotten character that I could just keep bad and give him the punishment he deserves.
> 
> Maybe the found family was cheesy but it makes me soft! It makes me happy! And isn't that what matters in the end?


End file.
